Starkid Theme Challenge Love
by YourPontmercyFriend
Summary: AVPM/Starkid inspired. Right before Quirrell is released from Azkaban to him and Voldy officially getting together, Quirrellmort. Written for a theme challenge, more about that in the story. T for PDA. Enjoy!


**On my DeviantArt account I'm doing a 100 piece Starkid challenge, and every picture/story I post has to have a theme. This one was for a theme of "Love", and I decided to do Voldemort and Quirrell slightly before Quirrell was released from Azkaban. This is kind of corny, but seeing as it starts near the end of AVPM it's hard not for it to be a bit cheesy. There is some PDA in here with them, so if you don't like it don't read it.**

**This is completely unrelated to my other fic expect that I guess it could be a prequel, I made sure the house was the same size and layout. (I didn't mention the garden out back or magic basement because there wasn't much point for this story).**

**Also, some grammar may have died in here/sentences might sound yucky, I was working on this yesterday and I finished it today, but I've been super out of it. I've had a horrible headache all day and this morning I lost my balance, nearly fainted, and fell backwards into the garbage can making coffee grounds spill out all over the floor, luckily my brother caught me. So yeah, probably not my best.**

Quirrell lay down on the floor in his prison cell, crying as usual. Azkaban was bad enough with dementors all over the place, but what made it even worse was losing the one person he had considered to be his best friend, or someone he secretly wanted to spend the rest of his life with.

All of a sudden his room grew frigidly cold, as opposed to the normal numbing cold. Quirrell didn't bother looking up at the dementor; no doubt it was here to drain him of any scrap of happiness or warmth. The dementor reached out its hand and touched his back, making Quirrell jump and whimper as icy hopelessness filled him. After being stuck in Azkaban for months Quirrell still hated it when dementors touched him.

To his surprise it dropped a pile of clean not-prisoner-robes clothes and his wand in front of him and said, "You're free to go." The dementor unlocked the cell door from when it floated and pulled him up, with Quirrell nearly passing out from the cold and despair. He had stopped crying at least, he didn't have the energy anymore for it.

"Thank you," said Quirrell as he picked up the wand and clothes off of the floor and was led out by the dementor. His best guess was that it wanted to drain him for as long as possible before he left for good. Taking a deep breath Quirrell shook the dementor off of him and tried to quit feeling bad about Voldemort betraying him. Once he had it in his mind to wash that man right out of his hair and move on with his life the dementor spoke up:

"Did you hear the news?" the dementor asked in a painfully cheerful sing-song voice. "Voldemort is dead! Good luck getting off of this island." It left him standing out in the freezing cold.

"Dead?" Quirrell choked, falling over and crying again. Just because he was upset at Voldemort for sending him to Azkaban, lying to him, and not staying with him when he had the chance didn't mean he wanted him to die and leave Quirrell with no hope of ever getting to see him again. He felt like a dementor was still hovering over him, sucking his life out and leaving him empty and depressed.

"Hey you," whispered a soft voice. Quirrell's head snapped up to see Voldemort standing in front of him, looking down and smiling at Quirrell with a soft and caring expression.

"Voldemort, is it really you?" asked Quirrell staring up at him. He was getting past shock and was trying to decide whether to give Voldemort a, hug, cry on his shoulder and stay with him forever or to 'incendio' his face and dump him for being such a jerk.

"What's left of me," Voldemort muttered.

"But I just heard the you were-"

"Destroyed?" asked Voldemort. Quirrell nodded and Voldemort continued, "Yeah, but there's, uh, a part of me that can't be destroyed, because it's right in here." Voldemort leaned over and pointed to Quirrell's chest.

Quirrell's heart skipped a beat as he asked, "In my heart?" Voldemort nodded and Quirrell practically shouted, "So, you came back!"

"I came home."

Quirrell bit his hand to keep from either laughing at Voldemort saying something as sweet and weird as 'I came home' or from crying again. He looked back up at Voldemort and said, "And you don't want to kill Harry Potter anymore?"

Voldemort sighed and replied, "No, because I learned something when I had my body back Quirrell. I learned that life is, messy, and complicated, and things don't turn out the way that you think they will. And you, you might think that killing people might make them like you but it doesn't!" he burst out. "It just makes people dead. I got- I GOT KILLED BY A TWO YEAR OLD! It's really embarrassing, and everyone starts saying 'When are you gonna come back Voldemort? When are you going to take over the world?' and it's on me, it's all on me! And I'm sitting there by myself because no one wants to help, and I say to myself, maybe with Quirrell everything would be okay."

"Is okay, good?" asked Quirrell, hoping that Voldemort would stay with him at least as a friend.

"Quirrell, okay is wonderful!" exclaimed Voldemort as he pulled Quirrell to his feet. They went into the back to back position that they had spent months in and felt the most comfortable with.

"So uh, Voldemort," started Quirrell feeling awkward. "Can I come and live with you?"

"Quirrell, I am homeless," replied Voldemort. He turned towards Quirrell and asked over his shoulder, "Can I live with you?"

"I have a small house that I live in when I'm not at Hogwarts or traveling that will do." Quirrell took Voldemort's hand and apparated to outside of his house. "It's a bit on the small side, and the heater might not work anymore, but at least it's far away from most of the muggles."

His house had two floors, three bedrooms, a large flowerbed out front, and a driveway with a rather beaten up car sitting in it.

"So, uh, the door's this way," said Quirrell as he led Voldemort to the door. "Alohomora!" Quirrell didn't like breaking into his own house but seeing as he didn't have a house key with him he didn't have any other choice. They walked inside to find the dining room table, with the kitchen to the left of it and the living room straight ahead.

Instead of a sarcastic comment about how dumb Quirrell's previous statement was, Voldemort noticed Quirrell was shivering and said, "You're freezing cold, and probably hungry, I'll make you some soup."

"Huh? Oh, no, I don't want you to have to-"

"Quirrell, it's okay," replied Voldemort with a smile. "I want to take care of you, you're a wreck." Quirrell looked at himself and couldn't deny it, his hair was messed up, all he was wearing was the thin Azkaban night gown, he was shaking from being cold, and he looked incredibly thin from lack of food.

"Okay," he sighed and sat down at the table while Voldemort heated up a couple of cans of vegetable soup on the stove. Once it was warm enough Voldemort poured it into two dishes and brought them to the table.

Quirrell took his and starting eating immediately, not noticing that it was hot enough to burn his mouth. He stared off into space enjoying his meal and thinking about how he should tell Voldemort about his deeper feelings for him and not do something incredibly stupid. Quirrell was pretty sure that Voldemort wasn't gay like he was and might not want anything to do with him if he told him how he truly felt.

"What do you think?" asked Voldemort gesturing to the soup.

"You're delicious," replied Quirrell. Voldemort raised his eyebrows and Quirrell realized what he had just said, "I mean this soup, that you made, is delicious. Hmmmm, yummy." He continued eating while Voldemort stared at him.

"Stand up," ordered Voldemort. Quirrell nervously rose from his seat and hoped he hadn't done something too horrible. Voldemort walked over to him, stood in front of him, and brushed some of Quirrell's hair out of his eyes. "What's up? You've been acting strange all night, is something wrong?"

"I do love nothing in the world so well as you!" Quirrell blurted out. "Is that not strange?" He added timidly to complete the Shakespeare quote that he didn't even mean to make in the first place.

Voldemort didn't respond at first and instead wrapped one of his arms around Quirrell's waist and the other hand went to the back of Quirrell's head. "I love you too," he murmured, and he pulled Quirrell close to him and kissed him gently on the lips.

Quirrell also held Voldemort and kissed him back, feeling warm fuzzies spread all throughout his body. Voldemort pulled away but still hugged Quirrell as Quirrell put his head on Voldemort's shoulder. "I was so scared you'd leave me if I told you how I felt," said Quirrell as he closed his eyes. "Since, you know, I didn't think you'd want to be with me seeing as I'm a guy."

"After being away from you I realized I felt differently about you, and I guess I discovered that I'm attracted to guys too. Or maybe just two of them," said Voldemort as he kissed Quirrell's neck.

Quirrell yawned and said, "Two? Who else is there?"

"Zefron."

Quirrell laughed and said, "Figures." He back out of their embrace and yawned, "I'm exhausted, do you want to go to bed?"

"Sure," replied Voldemort with a smile. He followed Quirrell upstairs to his bedroom to find a largish room with a full sized bed in the center of it, a dresser again the wall to the left, a window straight ahead, a few book shelves against any spare wall space, and some books on the floor that wouldn't fit on the shelves.

"The bed's a little small for us and the room's kind of messy," said Quirrell "But I hope you like it anyway."

"Oh poor me, I'll have to be close you all night long," Voldemort smiled and crawled in under the covers. "You coming?"

"Yes," replied Quirrell as he laid down next to Voldemort. He started shivering again and curled up into a ball.

"You'll feel warmer this way," said Voldemort as he held Quirrell again and began rubbing his back. Quirrell relaxed and snuggled up to Voldemort as close as he possibly could. He sighed as warmth crept back into him, and he sincerely hoped that he didn't stay this prone to cold for the rest of his life, even if it did mean having an excuse to cuddle with Voldemort more often.

Voldemort kissed Quirrell again, this time he made it last longer and gradually deepened it until they were as close as they'd ever be while kissing. Quirrell pulled away so he could breathe and looked at Voldemort with a loving but slightly vacant expression.

"If we're going to be living in the muggle world I'll find a job to support us, seeing as you can't go out in public," said Quirrell with a loud yawn. "I could try teaching at a local school, maybe a middle school."

"Middle school is the worst," commented Voldemort. "High school might be better, some of the kids are more mature and most of the have already gone through the typical pre teen mood swings."

"Yeah, but seeing as any age group I'd be teaching would drive me crazy I'll go with middle school, at least then I'll be a lot taller than them and they might respect me more than high students would. I'll do anything to get to live here with you."

"Thank you," said Voldemort as he started scratching Quirrell's back. "You're sweet."

"So are you," replied Quirrell as he closed his eyes and enjoyed how nice and warm he felt.

Ten minutes later they were still laying in that same position when Voldemort said, "I love holding you like this, but I can't sleep."

"Me neither," yawned Quirrell. They both rolled over to their other sides into a back to back position and immediately felt more at home.

"Goodnight Quirrell."

"Goodnight."

"See you in the morning."

"Okay."

"Sweet dreams," said Voldemort, wondering how long he could keep talking at Quirrell before he snapped at him.

"Thank you, sweet dreams to you too."

"Don't let the bed bugs bite."

"They're trained not to bite me, they'll get you instead."

"Is there anything in your closet?"

"No!"

"Are you sure?"

"SHUT UP AND GO TO SLEEP!" Quirrell shouted.

"I love you too honey," replied Voldemort with a satisfied smirk.

Quirrell sighed and managed to press his back against Voldemort's to give him what they called a back hug. "I love you too. You're going to try and drive me nuts as long as we're together aren't you?"

"Yep."

"Good, because I wouldn't have you any other way than you being your annoying sarcastic self."

**Review please?**


End file.
